At STORIES by Eliza Grace we are passionate about developing a quality brand while treading a light carbon footprint. Every detail of our story is considered, from the raw paper labels to the refillable glass fragrance bottles. We make unique products with our customers in mind and sustainable packaging out of respect for our planet. 

Our boxes are the opening chapter of our story. Fashioned from rigid materials, these containers are designed to be repurposed. The foam insert can be removed, and our story can live on as a vessel for your imagination: think jewellery box, trinket holder or pen stand. Inside the box you can read the inspiration for each fragrance and engage with the heart of our brand. The packaging is simple with clean lines and a classic finish. It does not boast, rather it confidently takes up space on the shelf with raw, unfiltered beauty.

We keep plastic in our packaging to a minimum. Our glass bottles come in a range of sizes: 2 ml, 15 ml, 30 ml and 100ml. With the exception of the 2 ml tester, the bottles are refillable, encouraging customers to have a long-standing relationship with our products. The labels on our bottles are made from engineered raw paper. It is environmentally friendly but of high enough quality to communicate our story with integrity.

Environmental sustainability is a hallmark of our journey. So many of the ingredients we use in our fragrances are rooted in the earth. Our story is one of connectedness: to our past, our customers, our planet and the future we hope to preserve. We are committed to the creation of bespoke products and the development of sustainable practices that honour the world in which we live.


As I sat surrounded by the tiny brown bottles of the Perfumer’s Organ in a village in the French Riviera, I was confronted by some of my most painful memories. Each scent I inhaled illuminated the shadows of a difficult past and marked the beginning of a healing journey. Fragrance No. 1 tells the uplifting story of sorrow transformed into beauty, of the dark yielding to the light.


Days in my grandfather’s garden were spent among his plants. In the greenhouse, rose bushes stood among orange trees, on which blossom and fruit grew in tandem. Pots of patchouli lined the patio; the aroma from rubbing their green leaves on my wrists. The scent of the stream drew me barefoot into its water. I paddled under the watchful gaze of my father and grandfather, their faces obscured by tobacco pipe smoke. Fragrance No. 2 is an invitation to walk among the flowers, shed your shoes at the river and recover that which has been lost.